Jinx by Jennifer Estep
Beefy fingers latched on to my arm and jerked me back.
“Going somewhere?” Hangman asked, his hand tightening around my arm.
My fingers went numb, and the statue slid from my grasp, clanking against the floor. Any tighter, and he’d break my wrist with his grip. At the clanging noise, Hannah looked over her shoulder and forced Joanne to turn around so she could keep an eye on all of us at the same time.
WHACK!
Something smashed into the back of Hangman’s head. He let go of my arm and staggered away. Granny Cane stood behind the ubervillain, already bringing her cane around for another blow. But Hangman recovered quickly. He grabbed the cane and swung it and Granny up, around, over his head. The ubervillain let go and sent her flying through the room. Granny hit a wall on the opposite side of the museum and slumped to the floor. Another figure darted through the smoke and foam. Grandfather. Bobby dropped to a knee beside Granny Cane’s limp body. I started toward them.
“Forget the old woman! Get her! Get Bulluci!” Hannah screamed, her eyes fixed on me.
Hangman reached out—
POP!
And Debonair teleported right in front of me, protecting me from the advancing ubervillain yet again.
“Don’t you dare touch her,” he snarled at the taller man.
Hangman just laughed and swatted at Debonair like he was no more bothersome than a buzzing fly. But instead of teleporting out of the way, Debonair took the blow. He couldn’t move, or I would have been the one getting my face smashed in.
Hangman’s fist hit Debonair’s nose, and the bones snapped and crackled and popped like cereal. Blood spewed out from his face. The blow stunned Debonair, and Hangman used the opportunity to grab his left arm. The ubervillain snapped the limb like it was a piece of brittle biscotti. Debonair groaned and slumped to the floor in agony, his face white with pain underneath all the blood.
“Debonair!” I screamed, reaching for him.
But Hangman was too quick. He grabbed me around the waist and hauled me toward the center of the room where Prism stood with Joanne. The Fearless Five started forward, but Prism pressed the laserama to Joanne’s temple.
“One more move by anyone and she dies, along with Bulluci!”
The superheroes stood there. Helpless.
“Get the sapphire and get us out of here! Now!” Prism barked at her henchman.
Hangman wrenched the glass case containing the sapphire off the pedestal. He shoved it at me.
“Hold it or die,” he hissed.
I didn’t have much choice in the matter, so I wrapped my shaking arms around the square box as best I could. Prism snapped some sort of cable onto the utility belt around Hangman’s waist and fastened it to a hidden hook in her own costume.
“Let’s go,” Prism commanded her henchman. “Now.”
“No!”
“Stop!”
“Bella!”
Everyone started screaming and shouting and rushing forward at once. But I only had eyes for Debonair. His bloody, pain-filled face was the last thing I saw before Hangman flew us up through the museum’s shattered ceiling.
PART THREE
I ♥ Debonair
29
Flying in Hangman’s arms was nothing like teleporting around the city with Debonair. Joanne, Prism, and I hung off his belt like keys on a life-size ring, rattling and bumping and smacking together. The world zipped by in a haze of blue and white and black. The glass case felt heavy and slick in my sweaty, aching hands, but somehow I managed to hold on to it.
I wasn’t even aware I was screaming until Hangman yanked on my tangled hair.
“Shut up or I’ll knock out your teeth,” he snarled.
Since I wanted to keep my teeth right where they were, I shut up. Joanne wasn’t quite so sensible. As we soared through the cool, misty clouds, she kept punching and kicking Prism and screaming curses at the other woman. I would have helped if I hadn’t been afraid of dropping the sapphire into the middle of Bigtime Bay—and following it a second later when Hangman realized what I’d done. Finally, Prism clipped the side of Joanne’s temple with the laserama, and she went limp and still.
“What did you do to her?” I yelled above the rushing wind. “What did you do?”
“The bitch will be fine. I just knocked her out. Now quit talking!” Prism screamed back.
We flew for what seemed like hours, although it could have been only a few minutes. Hangman rocketed through the sky faster than any missile ever could. I had no sense of direction, only of color passing by me much, much faster than normal.
Hangman glided to a stop on top of a large yacht in the middle of the bay. He let go of me the second his booted feet touched the deck. I slumped on the slick wood, along with Joanne, who was still unconscious. My legs wouldn’t have supported a feather, much less me. At the moment, I was just glad I was back on solid ground again. So to speak.
“Are we clear?” Hangman asked, unbuckling Prism from his utility belt.
Prism pulled some sort of small computer out of another pouch on Hangman’s belt and starting hitting buttons. “Yes. The cops are on the scene, but they don’t have a clue, like usual. No sign of the Fearless Five, but there’s no way they could have tracked us here. Besides, the cloaking shield went up as soon as we touched down. We’re fine.”
Cloaking shield? I didn’t like the sound of that. Somehow, I made my aching, shaking hands let go of the glass case, and I crawled over to Joanne. The other woman was a mess. Her hair hung in black strands around her face, which was bruised and bloody from her altercation with Prism. Her knuckles were scraped, and her perfect nails broken beyond all repair. I checked Joanne’s pulse and watched her breathing. Both were strong and steady. Well, that was something to be grateful for.
My eyes flicked around, looking for a way off the yacht. But instead of a dinghy or life jacket, my gaze locked onto something far less useful—and far more horrifying.
The laser.
It sat in the middle of the deck, pointing out toward the city. It looked exactly the same as it had in the blueprints we’d gotten from Jasper—an enormous laser with a chair that swiveled around like a gun on a tank. Except for the fact the laser was bigger than a tank by itself. I didn’t see how the boat could support its weight and stay above the waterline.
“Get them inside before someone sees them,” Prism snapped, picking up the glass case. Her eyes gleamed with delight and triumph as she gazed at the enormous sapphire. “Mine. It’s finally mine,” she whispered.
“You’ve got the sapphire. You’ve got what you want. Let us go,” I said, trying to reason with the ubervillain. “You killed Berkley and destroyed the museum. Again. Isn’t that enough for you?”
Prism scoffed. “Hardly. That was just the opening act of this little drama. Save your breath, Bella. You won’t be breathing much longer.”
She turned and walked away. Hangman picked me up with one hand and Joanne with the other, like we were dumbbells. I was too shaken up to struggle with him. Prism went down a flight of stairs and through a door. Hangman followed her.
Most boats, no matter how big they look from the outside, are actually rather tiny when you go belowdecks. Not this one. It was all high ceilings, wide corridors, and massive rooms. With its gleaming brass and wood, it was one of the nicest yachts I’d ever been on. Except for the fact it belonged to a closet ubervillain.
We went down three more flights of stairs before coming to another door. Prism punched in a code on a keypad, then stuck her eye close to the machine for a retinal scan. The door slid back, and Hangman carried us inside.
Rows of computers and other equipment lined the walls, along with worktables, gadgets, gizmos, and the usual assortment of oddities. This must have been where Prism had assembled her enormous laser, one piece at a time. Windows wrapped all the way around the enormous space, offering an impressive view of the nighttime bay. The city skyline glittered in the distance, reminding me of an oasis. Or a mirage.
Hangman walked to the far side of the room, where another door stood. He leaned down and yanked it open, still carrying us. A row of metal cells lay inside, along with a few hard-looking cots. Ah, yes, the brig. What would an ubervillain lair be without some place to hold the innocent and unsuspecting heroes while the villain gave her exposition? Except, of course, Joanne and I weren’t superheroes. Just unlucky victims.
Hangman slung us inside a metal cell and closed the door, locking it. Prism trailed along behind him to make sure he’d done the job right—and to gloat.
I got to my feet, ignoring the pain stabbing through my body, and lurched over to the bars. Prism regarded me with cool, calculating eyes. Even if they were glowing red orbs.
“I bet this isn’t how you thought your evening would end, is it, Bella?” she sneered.
“Not quite,” I admitted. “What do you plan on doing with the sapphire and that laser out there?”
Prism smiled. “Something I should have done a long time ago—destroy this city and its worthless inhabitants.”
I swallowed, trying to ignore the fear that her words inspired. “And just how are you going to do that?”
Prism held up the glass case with the sapphire. “With this, of course. My laserama is quite powerful by itself. But with the Star Sapphire, it will be a weapon to truly be reckoned with. Nothing has more reflective and refractive capacity than the gem, and it will increase the power of my laser thirtyfold. In fact, the sapphire is going to be the centerpiece of my laserama. I was counting on the Fearless Five or some other superhero being kind enough to return it to the museum. I knew it would be a trap, of course, a way to lure me out into the open to try to steal it again. So I decided to strike first. With tremendous success, I’d say.”
I closed my eyes. Berkley was dead, Joanne and I were kidnapped, Devlin had been injured, and Prism was about to destroy the city. Everything had gone so horribly, horribly wrong.
“By dawn, I’ll bring Bigtime to its knees,” Prism crowed. “I’ll own this city and everything and everyone in it. Who knows? If you’re lucky, I just might let you live long enough to see my plan reach its inevitable, triumphant conclusion.”
“What are you going to do? Blow up something?”
She laughed again. “Of course. At least, as a demonstration of my power and determination. Being out here on the bay gives me access to any number of targets. I haven’t decided yet if I’ll annihilate Paradise Park or Quicke’s. Maybe even Oodles o’ Stuff, although I hate to destroy that particular retail outlet. Then, I plan on holding the city hostage until my demands are met.”
I had to ask. “What demands?”
“One billion dollars transferred to a bank account of my choosing. A statue of me erected in the middle of the downtown district. Every street renamed after me. A public declaration by the Fearless Five on SNN acknowledging that I beat them at their own game.” Prism ticked off the demands on her fingers. “You know, all the usual stuff.”
“The Fearless Five will stop you,” I said, hoping my voice sounded stronger than I felt. “They will. And if they don’t, the other superheroes will band together. You won’t get away with this. None of it.”
Prism just chuckled. “That’s why you and Joanne are going to make such lovely hostages. No one will dare try anything as long as I’ve got you two under lock and key. After all, they wouldn’t want to blow up two of the richest and most beloved women in Bigtime, now would they? Especially since you seem to be on good terms with Debonair and the Fearless Five.”
“You can’t stay out here in the bay forever,” I pointed out. “Somebody will find you eventually.”
“I’m counting on it. I’m afraid when the superheroes decide to storm the yacht, there will be a horrible, tragic accident, which you and Joanne won’t survive. The superheroes will think Hangman and I perished as well.”
My eyes flicked to Hangman, who was leaning against the wall, listening to us. “Why?”
Prism gave me a patronizing look. “Because I can’t very well retire to a nice tropical island and enjoy my victory if I’m constantly hounded by superheroes. Being an ubervillain has been fun, but I’m ready to have a little peace and quiet. The only way to do that is if everyone thinks I’m dead.”
I hated to admit it, but her plan was solid. Threaten the city with the laserama, hold Joanne and me as collateral, then fake everyone’s death. Well, Joanne and I wouldn’t be faking, but Prism and Hangman would. It was very clever, and I couldn’t think of a single way to stop it.
“You know I should really thank you, Bella. You made all of this possible.”
“What do you mean?”
Prism smiled. “I’ve been trying for months to get my hands on the Star Sapphire, but Berkley didn’t warm up to any of my advances. And then, the most wonderful thing happened—you and Joanne convinced him to put it on display at the museum.”
The way she talked about Berkley made me think about the night of the bachelor auction and benefit, when Joanne had been so angry at Hannah for hitting on Berkley. Hannah hadn’t been trying to steal Berkley from Joanne. She’d just wanted the gem for her laser—and had been willing to do anything to get it.
“Of course, I tried to get the sapphire before it got to the museum,” Prism continued, giving Hangman a pointed look. “But some people weren’t up to the task.”
More memories flashed through my mind. The night Debonair broke into Brilliance, Berkley mentioned the alarms had been going off all week. It hadn’t been Debonair trying to get inside, at least not those first few times. It had been Hangman, hoping to snatch the sapphire on Hannah’s orders.
Another realization popped into my head.
“That’s why you volunteered to help with the benefit in the first place,” I accused. “You were planning to steal the sapphire all along!”
Prism smiled. “Of course. In hostile takeovers, it’s smart to gather as much information as you can beforehand. It helps avoid nasty surprises. Helping with the benefit was an easy way to keep tabs on the sapphire and the security you arranged for it.”
I couldn’t believe I’d fallen for her scheme. I should have known Hannah had some ulterior motive. Like Joanne had said, she wasn’t a nice person, just a bully with lots of money.
Prism let out another laugh. “But now, I’m afraid we’re going to have to leave you and Joanne to your own devices. Come along, Hangman. It’s time to finish our plan.”
She walked away, followed by the tall ubervillain. The door shut behind them, and I heard the lock click home.
Let’s see. I was trapped in a cell with an injured, unconscious woman, while a maniacal ubervillain held me and the city hostage. My superhero friends had no idea where I was, and the man I loved had been seriously injured. And the whole situation was largely my fault. Yep, I was batting a thousand today.
Lucky, lucky me.
30
I didn’t dwell on my precarious predicament. I’d learned a long time ago there was no use pondering the supermesses I made. They never got cleaned up that way.
The first thing I did was see to Joanne. Hangman had been considerate enough to sling her unconscious body onto one of the cots inside the cell. The bump on her head worried me, but I couldn’t do anything about that right now. I checked her pulse and breathing again. Both were still steady and strong, and the cuts and bruises on her face and hands were mostly superficial. Joanne James was made of tougher stuff than her stick figure let on. I pulled off her shoes, smoothed her hair back from her face, and put a blanket over her body, trying to make her as comfortable as possible, since it looked like we were going to be here awhile.
The second thing I did was try the cell door. It was just as solid and sturdy and steely as it looked. The bars didn’t budge—not even an inch. There weren’t any hinges to pop this time. I wouldn’t be getting out of this cell without some serious assistance. Too bad I didn’t have Fiona’s superstrength to help me bust out.
I paced back
Frustrated, I smacked my hand against the bars. A familiar jangle sounded, and my eyes fell to the silver charm bracelet around my wrist. Then again, maybe I had something even better than superstrength—a toy from Jasper. I’d forgotten about the bomb-filled bracelet while Hangman flew us away, but I was sure going to use it now. If I could figure out how to do that without blowing Joanne and me up in the process.
“Bella?”
I turned to find Joanne sitting up on the cot. The other woman’s eyes went slowly around the brig, as if she couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing.
“Where are we?” Her words slurred together, her violet eyes hazy and out of focus.
“How are you feeling?” I asked, gently probing the bump on the side of Joanne’s head with my fingers. It had gone down considerably since I’d checked it a few minutes ago.
“I have a headache,” Joanne replied. “And my stomach hurts. What happened?”
“Don’t you remember?”
She shook her head and winced. “Not really. I just remember Berkley smiling at me . . .”
I hated to be the bearer of bad news, but I filled Joanne in on everything that had happened at the museum and since Prism had knocked her out, including the ubervillain’s master plan.
“She killed Berkley so she could use the sapphire to power her laser? To get money from the city?”
Joanne’s eyes filled with tears. She put her head in her hands. I put my arm around her. Joanne buried her face in my shoulder and cried. Violent sobs shook her thin body, and her hot tears dripped down my shoulder and arm. The salt from them made my own cuts burn.
Joanne let herself cry for five minutes. Then, she pulled away from me and swiped the rest of the tears from her eyes. Her mascara had cascaded down her face, reminding me of some sort of black superhero mask. Joanne got to her feet, marched over to the cell bars, and started tugging on them for all she was worth.